


Stranger Than

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The big and burly no-name standing impatiently before Rodney's prison isn't *quite* disrespectful. It's just clear that he wants to be more than anything in the world. If he were a teenager, Rodney knows there would be eye-rolling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger Than

It's like the chicken pox all over again. Rodney itches, not just in one place, easily scratchable if he doesn't mind the inevitable scarring, but _lots_ of places, all the places, everywhere on his body and he doesn't have enough hands or nails or willpower, one of those three things, possibly others.

Locked away in his cell, Rodney pats the rusted metal walls and croons under his breath. "Soon, soon," he tells the ship, voice low and gentling like he's talking to a baby, restless and unhappy and sick. In a way, he is. "Soon, it's okay, don't be scared. I'll be rescued and we'll take you with us, and oh, you'll love A -- uh, home. You'll have your very own berth and brand new sheeting, all over, I'm going to fix up everything, I promise, and you're going to be _beautiful."_

Something thuds dully against the wall. Rodney whirls around to see Larrin, the leather-wearing, tumbling-haired Larrin, watching him with a glazed expression, clinging to the wall outside Rodney's prison like if she didn't, she'd fall down. "Uh," she says.

"Yes, yes, what? Come to have your goons beat me some more? Pretend that you have any kind of leverage other than outright killing me which, hey, works out a whole lot worse for you than it does me, since you _still_ won't get your ships fixed and now you'll have Colonel Sheppard on your ass." Rodney doesn't actually pay attention to his ranting until he hears the words. He swallows, suddenly seeing Sheppard curled up around Larrin, grinning over that very messy hair of hers, bodies pressed so that he really _is_ right over her ass and -- 

Why is Larrin grinning at him? Especially since it's not a I'll-get-you-my-pretty grin, instead it's kind of... nice? "I brought you lunch," she says. "No citrus-like anything, I checked."

"Oh. Um. Thank you?"

"Say it like you mean it, McKay."

He does mean it, actually, although the drawled statement makes his back go straight and his mouth start to pour out bluster. The problem isn't his captor being, unusually, a babe and actually going out of her way not to rough him _too_ much up or poison him with fruit. The problem is that every time Rodney looks at Larrin his eyes cross and his brain breaks a little, and there's a growing certainty that it's the same for her, too.

"Can I give him the food now?" The big and burly no-name standing impatiently before Rodney's prison isn't _quite_ disrespectful. It's just clear that he wants to be more than anything in the world. If he were a teenager, Rodney knows there would be eye-rolling.

"Yeah, yeah," Larrin says and -- god, _rolls her eyes_ , before leaning against the wall like her spine is made of pipe-cleaners, cocking her hips in a way that makes Rodney's mouth go dry. "You know, Rodney, I could make this worth your while."

Rodney's had dreams like this. Reality is turning out to be far more nightmare inducing.

"You'll let me go?"

"Oh, no, see, we can't do that," Larrin purrs -- really, Rodney has cats, he knows purring when he hears it -- and swivels herself closer. "A man of your... talents is exactly what we need around here."

Three things happen at once. First, Larrin's brainless friend makes a gagging noise. Rodney, meanwhile, is rapidly considering all kinds of possibilities that start with hari kari and end with him doing things he will probably enjoy, to his detriment, but will also include him being saddled with a crumbling, irreparable fleet, a crazy crazy whatever Larrin would demand he call her -- 'wife' isn't out of the question, Rodney thinks hysterically -- and potentially _children_ that a man of his skill and genius could not possibly be expected to care for while his _whatever_ went off and took over the galaxy with her crazy gray eyes and stunning body that bent like play-doh in, unfortunately, _really_ interesting ways.

The third thing happens in two parts. Larrin smirks and just manages to say, "Engineers are always good with their hands," which has Rodney actually backing away in sheer terror, so he has an excellent view of Sheppard coming up behind Larrin, exactly like in his fantasy from a few moments ago, only less with the sexy and more with the human arsenal.

"Hiya," Sheppard drawls, gun resting gently at Larrin's temple. The goon is similarly covered by Ronon while Teyla fiddles with the controls, making the field holding Rodney blink out of existence. "I think you have something that belongs to me."

Rodney, busily working himself up to a rant of epic proportions -- 'taking too long' and 'crazy, crazy woman' are phrases that feature heavily -- suddenly jerks to a halt without even leaving his cell. Sheppard sounds strange. Sheppard _normally_ sounds strange, but this is a different kind of strange. There's none of the hated drawling, smug amusement that Sheppard has once again come to Rodney's rescue, lording it over Rodney and his erstwhile captor, both. Instead, there's something close to rage in his voice, like cars crunching over gravel for miles and miles, but doesn't quite have the murderous quality that Rodney has come to depend on.

If anything Sheppard sounds -- mad. Not 'you took my scientist, prepare to die' kind of mad. No, this was somehow lighter and more frighteningly enormous at the same time. Like Sheppard was holding onto his cool with mental teeth and toenails, because if he lost it, he was going to really _lose it._

"I'm okay," Rodney says, voice high and a little small. "She, um, didn't hurt me too much, just mostly wanted me to -- "

"I know what she wanted you for, McKay," Sheppard says and the madness in his voice takes on a knowing tinge that makes Rodney swallow, because there is a conversation going on here that he doesn't understand and, for once, he's not sure he wants to.

Larrin, at least, completely understands. She's turned around so she can face Sheppard, smirking under the shadow of his gun, standing in such a way that she looks like pure, confident sex. It's -- disconcerting. Rodney's sure he's seen that before, he just can't figure out where. Or _why._

"Aw, Sheppard. I knew I'd see you again. Too bad you're quicker on the draw than you friend Rodney, here, is. It could've been... fun." Her smile conveys paragraphs.

Sheppard's face tightens and it is Teyla who says, "Inside," her voice hard and clipped with the kind of anger she rarely expresses. She pushes Larrin to join her thug, already shoved inside by Ronon, who watches the entire byplay with interest, and puts back up the energy barrier. "No doubt you will be able to free yourselves in a few days."

Rodney's watched a few cat-fights in his time and, sure, it's only one line, but _this_ he gets, although he isn't quite sure why one is happening at all. Teyla likes him, he knows, but why she's flashing up _touch him again and die_ signals so that even Rodney can read them -- that just doesn't make sense.

It's _nice_ , yes. But strange.

"This way, Dr. McKay, we will take you to see Keller." Teyla links her arm with Rodney's while Sheppard leads the way, back ramrod straight and shoulders hovering just below his ears, Ronon covering their six. It's an odd processional, particularly as they pass bodies that have been clearly stunned by the Wriath Stunner Sheppard has slung along one side.

"We made him take that," Ronon says when he catches Rodney's curious look.

"Why would you do that?"

Ronon smiles at him, shaking his head as he turns back to watch their retreat. "Never mind."

"Oh, yes, let's rescue the genius just so you can mock him. Why exactly did I want to go back with you cretins again?"

Sheppard abruptly slams his hand onto the control to open up the docking bay doors, hard enough that all of them jumped. "Shut up, McKay."

"What? I have been captured, beaten -- okay, not a lot, but there are bruises and my arm is bleeding! -- and threatened with unspeakable things so I could become Mr. Fix It for yet _another_ unappreciative group of people, and you want me to _shut up?"_

Sheppard suddenly crowds into his personal space, panting so hard it hisses a little through his clenched teeth, face white as a sheet. He doesn't have a chance to say anything, though, before Teyla gently pushes him away. "When we have returned home, please."

"Yeah. Right." Stomping -- _stomping!_ \-- inside the 'jumper, Sheppard powers it up and takes them out of the hanger and back into dark, peaceful night.

"What the hell is _his_ problem," Rodney grumbles as he's pushed onto the bench in the back, Teyla sitting next to him so she can remove his sweat- and blood-soaked jacket, examining the cut that he received on Atlantis, reopened under Larrin's tender care. "What, only _he_ can be captured by the hot babes? Only he can kiss his way to freedom?"

The puddlejumper drops suddenly.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing!" Rodney shouts. He'll never admit that brief drop scares him, because he knows it's not a mistake. Sheppard doesn't make mistakes while flying, and anyway, Rodney had _felt_ it, stomach-dropping nausea and all. The inertial dampeners should've taken care of it, which means they'd been turned off, which means -- 

Teyla cups her hand around Rodney's face, pulling his attention back to her. "We have been very worried," she says. "Do not task John too harshly, please."

"Like there's any glory in being kidnapped," Rodney snaps.

Across the way, stretched out like a young lion under African sunlight, Ronon chuckles. "They're stupid."

"Ronon!"

"What, they are."

"Ronon, that is enough." Returning to her examination, as light flashes blue and blinding around them, taking them through their first of at least five 'gates, Teyla repeats, "We have all been very worried about you. John, in particular, has been quite upset."

Rodney doesn't feel like being charitable. "He just wanted Larrin for himself, obviously." 

A low growl fills the 'jumper and Rodney looks at Ronon.

Ronon just smirks at him.

"Yes, fine, whatever. Can we just hurry up and go home?" Slumping back, suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline finally drains from his system, he rubs his head, careful of where he's been hit a few times and a goose-egg is growing. "I really want to go home."

It's probably his imagination, but the 'jumper feels like it picks up speed. In the front, Sheppard twists around to flash him an unreadable look that melts into a reassuring half-grin. "Almost there, buddy. You just hang tight and we'll get you there safe and sound."

Rodney nods, eyes shut as he lets his head fall against the walls of the puddlejumper. He sleeps, or at least dozes, because the next time he blinks he's being helped onto a gurney, being frowned at prettily by Dr. Keller. It turns out he's really not fine, with his re-opened cut infected with something and a mild concussion making his head ring even as it oozes one direction to the next, a slow wave of disorientation that isn't quite pain but comes very close. He's being kept in the infirmary for observation, something that's happened so many times that Rodney doesn't even bother objecting. He's home, and he's safe, and he'll be okay. That's enough, for the moment.

Later, when Sheppard brings him his dinner and a pack of cards, claiming that concussions don't lend themselves to chess, something Rodney vehemently denies until his vehemence makes his head _ache_ , and they've played for a while, Rodney says, "Um. Thank you. For, ah, rescuing me."

Sheppard's head is bent down, studying his cards, the light catching the crazy spikes of his hair, illuminating them until they look almost brown, and the long, knobby sweep of his nose, an angled cut against the curve of his jaw. "Well, I couldn't exactly leave you there with her. Who'd I play cards with?"

The answer is unexpected. They've done this enough that Rodney knows the answer _should_ have been a smile and a shrug and a cutting phrase. Not -- this.

"I'm sure you'd find someone," Rodney says uncertainly.

"Don't worry about it, McKay. I wouldn't leave you there with her, all right? She might do something -- crazy. Bad." Sheppard's expression is pensive except for the rage that dyes his eyes green, mouth whitening around the edges. Whatever he's seeing, he really doesn't like it, and Rodney is suddenly reminded of the way Larrin laughed at his complaints and recriminations and threats, amused without ever being mocking.

"Sheppard -- "

Shaking himself, Sheppard studies his cards much harder than is warranted. "Look, it doesn't matter, because I'm not letting it happen again. Now, go fish."

Rodney looks down at his own cards and really, really hopes he's imagining it when he hears Sheppard mutter, "Pretty soon you wouldn't want to go," because the amount of bitterness in those words isn't something Rodney knows how to deal with. Or their implication, which yes, he does understand, or at least some of it.

Swallowing, Rodney sorts through the cards strewn on the tray in front of him. "She was pretty, you know."

"McKay!"

"What, she was! It's an objective statement of fact!"

"She _kidnapped_ you!"

"Well, everybody's got their flaws," Rodney says, and when he picks up his card -- a two, dammit -- he pretends he doesn't notice Sheppard's leg pressing down more heavily where it's bumped up against Rodney's.

He has no idea what that means, but he likes it and sometimes that's more than enough.

"Got a two?"

"Oh, you are so cheating!"


End file.
